


Casual Cool

by Rymdunge



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, dumb teenagers, overly cutesy, uncreative comparison between The Blonde One and golden retriver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rymdunge/pseuds/Rymdunge
Summary: Arthur spots a cute boy in the park, and tries to get his attention – in a totally casual, nonchalant way, obviously.





	

“If you were a golden retriever, your tail would be going a hundred miles an hour.”

“Shut up, Percy,” Arthur said through clenched teeth. He peered over to the tree at the edge of the field, and the boy sitting under it, trying to glean whether or not his tight dribbling and smooth pass had gotten noticed. The boy appeared completely absorbed in his book. Arthur huffed and jogged towards the action on the other side of the field.

“Stop puffing your chest out. You look ridiculous,” Percy said.

Arthur decided that telling Percy to shut up again would be a waste of energy, so he opted for a sharp glare over his shoulder. He got into position for Leon to be able to pass the ball back to him. He looked over to see that the boy had looked up from his reading and was watching them with mild interest.

Leon’s pass went higher than expected and Arthur made a split decision. He had seen the move on TV about two months ago and had been practising ever since. He still got it wrong more than he got it right, but the feeling of the dark haired boy’s eyes on him made him feel confident and buzzing with energy.

He jumped up, falling backwards with one leg extended into the air. He felt a thrill of delight as his foot smacked perfectly into the ball, sending it towards the goal. His triumph was cut short by smacking into the ground, neck first.

He let out a yelp and flushed at the scattered laughter from around him.

“Nice backflip, Princess.”

Arthur rolled over on his stomach to see Gwain grinning at him, ball safely clasped against his chest.

“Shit.” Arthur was afraid to look, but curiosity won out. The boy was still looking, now leaning slightly to the side to see around Percy. Percy was looking at him too, arms crossed and shaking his head in exasperation. Arthur’s face got impossibly hotter and he buried his face in the unevenly cut grass.

“He’s smiling,” Gwain said in a sing-song tone as he sauntered over to look down at Arthur.

“Obviously,” Arthur mumbled. “That must’ve looked hilarious.”

“Y’know, you could just go over there and say ‘hi’.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that won’t make me look like a total dork.”

“That ship’s already sailed.”

“Are we still playing or what?” Elyan shouted.

Arthur stood and brushed himself off. He didn’t look over at the boy again, not wanting to make it too obvious that he cared. They started playing again, but Arthur’s head was not in the game. Loathed as he was to admit it, Gwain was right. He needed a reason to go over and talk to the boy by the tree. Something casual, with plausible deniability.

The answer came to him with a pass from Elyan. He stopped on the ball and placed his foot onto of it. It was so obvious! He’d just kick the ball over, as though he’d misjudged his strength or the position of a team-mate. The boy was concentrating on his book again, so he wouldn’t be able to tell that the move had been intentional. He was certain he could have the ball land right next to the boy; close enough to draw his attention, maybe startle him a bit.

“Arthur,” Percy warned, but Arthur had already wound up for the kick.

The ball sailed through the air in a perfect bow. Arthur watched it with a grin as it plummeted towards the boy by his tree. Too close, he realised, about half a second before the ball bounced against the top of the boy’s head with a springy smack.

Arthur inhaled through clenched teeth. Gwain stifled a laugh and Percy sighed.

“I can still save this,” Arthur mumbled, more to himself than his friends.

He jogged over. The boy was rubbing the top of his head, a frown wrinkling his – adorable, gorgeous – face. He looked up as Arthur got near and his frown deepened. Arthur tried his most winning smile.

“Hey, sorry about that, mate. Didn’t mean to hit you.”

“I should hope so,” the boy said in a luscious voice, still frowning.

Arthur moved to lean casually against the tree, but he misjudged the distance slightly and ended up stumbling over the uneven ground around the roots. “Uhm,” he said, leaning his elbow against the tree and his head on his hand. No, that made him look silly, so he moved to lean on his shoulder instead. “Do you want to play with us?” Stupid word-choice. What was he, four? “I mean, there’s always room for one more.”

The boy wasn’t frowning any more, but he was looking at Arthur as if he was an idiot and Arthur thought he might be right. God, but he was lovely; pale skin, dark hair, long, lanky limps and graceful hands. His eyes were sparkling blue and Arthur wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about drowning in someone’s eyes.

A tiny smile spread across the boy’s lips and his eyes crinkled slightly. “I’m not very good at football.”

“That’s okay,” Arthur said quickly. “It’s all for fun.”

The boy scratched his ear. (He had the cutest sticky-out ears.) “Like, I’m _really_ bad.”

“I’ll teach you then. I’m a pretty amazing teacher.” Arthur was probably showing his interest a bit too much, but the boy was smiling shyly and Arthur thought that maybe he had a good chance here.

The boy shut his book and tucked it into his bag. “Fine, you prat.”

“Arthur, actually,”

The boy got to his feet – he was slightly taller than Arthur but still somehow managed to peer at him through his dark eyelashes. “Merlin,” he said.

“Well, _Mer_ lin, why don’t you put your stuff over there with ours? Wouldn’t want anyone to snatch that book of yours.”

Merlin hummed and pressed the ball into Arthur’s chest, lingering a bit longer than strictly necessary. He moved past Arthur, towards the pile of bags and jackets on the other side of the field, brushing Arthur’s shoulder, even though there was no need to move so close. He glanced at Arthur over his shoulder. He looked like he was about to say something, but changed his mind and just gave him a cheeky grin. Arthur was eternally grateful that he didn’t have a tail.

Merlin really was quite bad, but Arthur thought he did a pretty good job teaching him. And he got to catch Merlin by the waist once, when he managed to trip over his own feet, which made Merlin let out the best laugh in the entire universe. Arthur ignored Leon’s and Gwain’s amused looks.

They kept playing until the sun started to set, and Arthur realised that he’d been too distracted by the way the orange light of the late afternoon made Merlin’s face glow to come up with a casual way to ask for Merlin’s number. He had a few seconds of panic before it occurred to him: he could just pretend that it was about football. He’d ask just as they parted, as though it only occurred to him just then, as an afterthought.

Merlin was moving over to the bag-pile; quite slowly, Arthur noted with great satisfaction, as if he was hoping _somebody_ would ask him for his number, or something. Oh yeah, Arthur was so in it.

“Hey, Merlin,” Gwain called. He jogged over to wrap an arm around Merlin’s shoulder, completely ignoring the death glare Arthur was aiming at the back of his head. “Why don’t you just ask Arthur here for his number?”

“Gwain!” Arthur screeched.

“Only, he’s quite shy and is probably gonna chicken out, and then we’re going to have to deal with his bad mood for the next month or so.”

Arthur was going to die. He was going to die and it would be way better than being alive to deal with the aftermath of his horrible, traitorous friend’s shitty idea of a joke.

Then Merlin was standing infront of him, bag slung over his shoulder. He leaned forward to peer up at Arthur’s lowered face. He smiled crookedly, eyes glittering with amusement. “Is that right?” he said.

“I…” Arthur choked out, trying to regain his footing even as his face was going tomato-red. He cleared his throat. “I was gonna ask…” He straightened, trying to look unbothered. “I mean it’d be good to have each other's numbers if you want to play football with us again.”

Merlin pouted slightly. “Well, football really is not my thing, as I’m sure some of you have been able to pick up on.” Here he turned around to adress Gwain and Percy. Gwain was grinning like the stupid turd he was, and Percy wasn’t much better. Arthur resolved to kick the shit out of both of them.

Merlin turned back to him with a bright grin. “But if you want to meet up for coffee, or something…”

Arthur’s heart jumped into his throat and he had to swallow twice before he regained his voice enough to answer. “Yeah. Cool. That sounds fine. Let’s, uh…” He shoved his hand into his pocket, before remembering that he had put his phone in his bag.

When he looked up, Merlin was holding his own phone out, ‘new contact’ page already open. Arthur carefully typed his number in, checking it twice to make sure he’d gotten it right, before handing the phone back.

Merlin fired away a quick text and Arthur’s bag gave a ’ping’ sound.

“Shmawesome,” Merlin said, like that wasn’t a ridiculous thing to say. “I’ll see you around, then.”

Before Arthur could answer, Merlin leaned close and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

“Bye. I’ve got a bus to catch.”

And with that, he was off. He turned to wave before he disappeared out of the park. Arthur waved back, perhaps a bit dopily. His heart was fluttering like a butterfly and he was feeling a bit weak in the knees. 

“C’mon, Goldie. Can’t stand around here all day.” Gwain threw his arm around his neck and dragged him towards their bags.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” Arthur snapped. “You almost blew it for me.”

Gwain snorted like a pig. “Mate, I saved the whole operation. You would have been too busy trying to act cool when you’ve already got it in the bag, and then you’d’ve gotten flustered and botched it and Merls would have left thinking that you weren’t interested after all.”

Arthur scoffed and dodged out from under Gwain’s arm. He got his phone out of his bag and pressed the home button. The screen lit up and he saw the text Merlin had sent him.

‘ur cute - M’

Arthur wondered if his face was just going to be permanently red from now on. He quickly locked the phone and shoved it into his pocket before Gwain, or one of the others could snatch it out of his hand. Then he realised he should probably reply, so that Merlin wouldn't think that he had ignored him. He pulled the phone back out, hesitated for a second before deciding to throw caution to the wind rather than make Merlin wait.

‘ur cuter’

He hit send and for a moment he almost regretted it. Maybe it was too cutesy, or coming on too strong? But Merlin had already called _him_ cute and kissed him, so really, if anything, he was being the more laid back person here.

His phone buzzed again as he turned onto his home-street. The message on the locked-screen read: ‘Pic for the contact page’. He would be eternally grateful that no one was around to see him open up the selfie of Merlin on the bus, lit in golden afternoon light, a goofy grin on his lips and a jaunty – maybe ironic – peace-sign shoved into the frame. Because Arthur may have let out an actual whine. The picture was almost too cute to bare to look at. It really was fortunate he didn’t have a tail to wag.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this down a while ago, and it's WAY more cutesy than I remember, haha.


End file.
